Submitted by Renee
Bloomsberg, Pennsylvania USA
My college, in Bloomsburg PA, was no stranger to paranormal activity. My dear friend Deb lived next door to me in Columbia, the all-women's dorm, on the 5th floor. This was a floor with a reported history of a teenage suicide and other ghostly happenings- in her room. We never did find out if there was any true history behind the stories, but there had been a lot of stories over the years about people not wanting to live in that room. Occasionally Deb would mention seeing a ghost, or hearing a voice, but I never really paid too much attention until someone or something made its presence known, at a time when I was alone in her room. Which led to an interesting night.
A mutual friend, Jeff, headed our way for a movie night. She had to sign him in at the front desk, so I waited in her room, and started to hear a scratching sound on the walls. Thinking it was an animal, I started poking around in the closets and various nooks and crannies. The scratches turned to footsteps, and localizing the sound proved difficult. A fan of unusual decor, she had a large, scary looking plastic bat she called Shmoopy hanging on the wall, next to the top bunk of the bunkbeds she shared with her roommate. Suddenly, both he and two books on a nearby hanging shelf simultaneously fell off the wall to the floor. Laughing the incident off, I picked them up and put them back on the shelves, not thinking anything of it, standing on the bunk-bed ladder to reach the hooks and shelf. No sooner had I done this, then every book she'd placed on a wall-mounted shelf, including those on the opposite walls, fell off the walls at the same time. I've never jumped out of my skin quite like that before. When she came back with Jeff, the place looked as if a bomb had gone off. All I could say was.. 'Um.. redecorating?'
The next morning, I woke up feeling like I had just been through a war in my sleep. Every muscle throbbed. Trying to figure out what could have made me so tired and creaky, I discovered bruises on my arms and legs, that were not accounted for by the simple viewing of a movie the previous night.
When talking to Deb later that morning, I showed her my bruises. She looked at me and said 'whatever happened, you must have killed it'. She then stated that she had seen a ghost's head with no body attached. The story we came up with was that I had fought something in my sleep, cut its head off, and sent the head over to her as a prize.
For some reason people didn't want to come visit us much after that. I have no idea why.